Page 50 of Claimed By Her Forbidden Duke
And Penelope could not help the series of noises that came forth, whether he had requested it or not, for when he pressed himself against her so that she felt the hard line of his desire, she could not avoid her spinning thoughts.
“Edmund, are you out—oh. Oh, Heavens, I?—”
Penelope had never seen anybody move as fast as Edmund did, wrenching away from her when Lady Arabella’s voice came from the open doorway.
Lady Arabella hovered between the curtains, looking at the two of them with wide eyes.
“I… I did not mean to interrupt,” she said, her cheeks flushing.
Edmund cleared his throat, adjusting something on his tailcoat, distracting Penelope before she realized what he attempted to conceal. Her face burned, but his expression swiftly shifted into a frown as he turned to his sister.
He opened his mouth, likely to scold her for the interruption, but the young lady was quicker.
“I was worried about you,” she said quickly. “I came looking.”
Her eyes sheepishly met Penelope’s, who moved closer to the French doors, ready to run away or to try and look as though she had not just been kissed within an inch of insanity.
But before either of them could say a word, footsteps thundered down the corridor, and Penelope knew it was Finley from listening out for his gait for many years, knowing his shadow filled every angle as it fell over doorways.
“Penelope?” he called, getting closer to the balcony.
Edmund moved further away from her as her brother stepped into the doorway, behind Lady Arabella.
His eyes fell on Penelope, narrowing. “What on earth is going on?”
His sharp demand slammed Penelope back into a weighty, sober reality, and she avoided looking at Edmund, avoided his kiss-swollen lips, and could only hope her blush and bruised lips were not so obvious, or that her brother would only see it as her usual flusters from her dresses.
Lady Arabella’s fingers went to a fastening on her dress right before she faced Finley, greeting him loudly. “Lord Langwaite!”
She’sdistracting him, Penelope realized.
Lady Arabella was giving them both another moment of composure.
Sending a silent prayer of gratitude, Penelope finally met Edmund’s eyes, but he quickly looked away.
“It is my fault, Lord Langwaite,” Lady Arabella said, her voice sweeping into a pretty, innocent note that had Cecilia’s name all over it. “You see, I saw Lady Penelope leave her seat. I had already complained to my brother about a problem with my dress, but it was not proper for him to help. I seized the opportunity to ask for assistance.”
“Why did you not encounter one another while powdering your nose, as you so claimed, Sister?” Finley’s question was aimed at Penelope, and she struggled for a response before Lady Arabella once again rescued her.
“Well, we did,” she lied. “We were already on our way. As you can see, we took a while, as I needed some air.”
The fabricated story loosened Penelope’s tightly wound nerves as her brother looked slow but sure to convince.
“I came looking for Lady Arabella,” Edmund said, startling Penelope with his voice, composed and back to a normal tone. Nothing at all like the low, sensual roughness he had spoken to her with. “As you have for Lady Penelope.”
Finley narrowed his eyes at the three of them before regarding Lady Arabella. “You should ensure that your dress is properly fastened, Lady Arabella. Your Grace, you should have more control over your sister. Lady Penelope acts very well in public, thanks to my guidance.”
“I am aware,” Edmund answered, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment. “I am very aware.”
Penelope swallowed, recalling the feel of his lips on her neck, his hands fumbling with the tight fabric of her dress as if he wished to free her for her comfort and for his pleasure.
“Come, Pen,” Finley all but ordered, and she snapped back into propriety, reminding herself of where she was. “We must return to our seats. You have missed almost a whole act.”
“We should also return,” Edmund said. He paused, inclining his head to her. “Lady Penelope.”
“Your Grace,” she replied, but it was scarcely a whisper.
His eyes dropped below her mouth, and she wondered what he was looking at, but Finley was already steering her out of the balcony, back to the theater, in a different direction from the Duke and his sister.
